Before He Was The Consulting Detective
by todaywasasherlockday
Summary: What would have happened if Sherlock and John had met at primary/elementary school? Sherlock and John meet and are immediately inseparable, but will their friendship last the test of time? This is Johnlock. Don't like? Don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright so this is a childhood version of Sherlock, yes I know it's been done a million times, but I wanted to do one as well :D**

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Sherlock and his brother Mycroft were orphans. Their parents had died soon after the eldest, Mycroft had turned 18. This left the younger Holmes boy in the care of his older brother until he turned 18. Currently, Sherlock was 8. He was an odd child. He never cried, hardly ever talked and when he did, he demonstrated an intellect people never expected from the skinny, pale Holmes child.

Unlike his brother, Sherlock didn't have friends and didn't seem to want them. To him, emotions were things that should be avoided and they should never get in the way of something more important.

Sherlock and Mycroft's parents were well-off, and with the life insurance, the two boys would never need to worry about money for the rest of their lives. They lived in a mansion that was about an hour and a half train ride away from London.

Mycroft and Sherlock were as different as day and night. They never saw eye to eye, and they never understood each other. They had a strained relationship at best.

* * *

John Watson had just moved from the hustle and bustle of London to the quaint suburbs after his mother had passed away. His father and sister, Harry were kind and loving. John was a normal 10 year-old boy. He wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and he loved dinosaurs and the solar system.

John lived a relatively normal life; that is until he met Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

It was the first day of school. Both Sherlock and John were going into grade 5. Sherlock awoke right on time. He didn't like school, because that's where all the people he hated were, but he never missed a chance to make his enemies feel insignificant. So, he pulled on the frumpy, uncomfortable uniform that he was required to wear, and grabbed a glass of water, which he drained quickly, before running out of the house.

He got to the school before the doors had even been opened, so instead he sat on the monkey bars in the playground people watching. He liked to watch people more than he liked interacting with them. He loved to deduce things about all the people. He knew who had been having family problems the night before. He knew what people had eaten for breakfast. He never asked if he was right because he knew he was.

Then, with 25 minutes until school started, Sherlock saw someone new.

* * *

John tried to be brave, but he was nervous. It was a small town, and he knew that he would stick out a like a sore thumb.

He held his head high regardless. He would be back in London in a few years. His father thought that a few years in the country would be good for the family. He missed London. He missed the busy streets and the ability to get around without needing his father to drive him everywhere.

"Single parent. Father by the looks of it. You have a brother. You two have never gotten along, but he still tries. You moved here for 'fresh air', most likely from London. Sherlock Holmes."

John heard this entire break-down of his life from beside him. He didn't realize that someone had come up to him and was walking beside him until 'Sherlock' spoke.

"John. Watson." John managed to stammer out once he'd recovered his voice.

"Was I right?" Sherlock asked, staring down at the short blonde boy with eyes that looked like they were made of steel.

"Sister. I have a sister, not a brother." John said.

"Darn. There's always something."

"That was amazing. How'd you do that?" John asked excitedly.

"Quite simple. The stitching on your pant leg is crooked. Usually one parent can sew better than the other, and statistically women are better than men at sewing so I assumed that you only have a father. You have a keychain on your backpack that says 'Love Harry' but it's covered in mud. You don't really care for it, yet you keep it, so brother you don't get along with, but the mere fact of the keychain suggests that he still tries to win your affection. Your boots are speckled with mud. It hasn't rained here for a week and a half, and you just got here. Your shirt is wrinkled, badly, so you threw it on out of a suitcase. The only place it has rained in the past 48 hours within reasonable travel distance is London, or rather that area."

John couldn't speak. He was dumb-founded.

"What grade?" Sherlock continued.

"Five."

"Class?" Sherlock asked, cocking his head to the side, as if intrigued by the blonde boy.

"Baker's" John said, still unable to speak in more than a few syllables.

"Classroom 221B. This way." Sherlock said, marching off towards the school with an alarming fast pace, and yet he didn't look like he was really trying.

* * *

Miss Baker was a lovely Scottish lady. She was about 20, barely out of university. She moved to London about two years ago.

Sherlock introduced John to her. He smiled shyly before handing her a slip of paper he'd received from the office. He knew immediately that John thought she was beautiful, but she was engaged. Newly, by the way she was fiddling with the diamond ring on her left hand.

Andy and Sally were the next two children to show up.

"Hey, freak. Why are you still here? I thought you were better than the rest of us." Sally said as she took the seat on Sherlock's left. Sherlock didn't respond, not because he was embarrassed or ashamed, but because he was barely paying attention to the coffee-skinned girl.

"She is talking to you, freak." Andy said taking the seat behind Sherlock, because the seat to his right was taken by John who they'd failed to acknowledge.

"Oi. He's not a freak." John said, taking the attention of Sally and Andy off of Sherlock.

"And who are you?" Sally inquired with a cruel smirk.

"John."

"And why, John, do you care if we're calling them as we see them?" Andy asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were blind." John replied earnestly.

Sherlock snickered, and by the time Sally and Andy had figured out that they'd been insulted John was laughing as well.

"Fine, be the freak's pet. You won't make many friends that way." Sally sneered before moving desk to the one in the far back corner.

"Why did you do that?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I can't stand people like that, and you're the closest thing I have to a friend right now."

"Alright class, let's get started." Miss Baker said, cutting off Sherlock's reply.

_Friend?_ Sherlock thought, _Never had one of those before._

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**Alright, so I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This will be a few chapters long (maybe 5 idk), and if you did enjoy please leave a review 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long break. I've been without internet, and frankly I've been busy and lazy... Alright so chapter 2... Let's begin...**

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John remained Sherlock only friend throughout their childhood and into their teenager years. They were inseparable, John was one of the few people who could get Sherlock to eat when he was being moody, and was the only person who could get a honest laugh out of the younger Holmes boy.

John was always the one who could relate to people. He knew how to have a civil conversation with someone who was beyond stupid. Sherlock on the other hand would take to immediately insulting them, using words with more than 3 syllables so they couldn't understand.

"You shouldn't be so mean to her." John said, as he and Sherlock left a corner store. It was the summer after John had turned 16 and Sherlock had turned 14. If you looked at the two boys walking down the street you would assume that they would hate each other. Sherlock wore black jeans, and a black button-up shirt. Whereas John was wearing khaki shorts and a 'keep calm and carry on' t-shirt.

"Why not? She lacks the intelligence that most people posses. And that is quite difficult." Sherlock said coolly.

"Right, well I gotta go Sherlock. I've..." John began.

"Got a shift at the soup kitchen. I know." Sherlock said, cutting off his friend.

John always volunteered at the soup kitchen, the local animal shelter and the local clinic during the summer. Sherlock considered volunteering as well, but the 14 year-old boy would immediately start insulting everyone out of boredom, so he decided against it.

Sherlock checked his watch, he still had 2 hours before he had to go home and check on his experiment. He was trying to see if he could annoy Mycroft enough to swear by turning up the air conditioning remotely from his phone.

Sherlock smiled at his friend before starting in the other direction, with only a nod goodbye.

* * *

John came into Sherlock's room a few hours later, smelling faintly of onions and barely but mostly of a strong perfume.

"Hey, Mycroft let me." John said. He flopped down on the couch Sherlock had in his room. Sherlock was lying on his back on his bed with his book in his hands above his face.

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked casually, not even glancing up from his book.

"What? How'd you know?" John asked flustered.

"You smell strongly of incredibly feminine perfume. It wasn't rocket science John. Who is she?" Sherlock said, placing his book on his bedside table, rolling out of bed and coming to sit next to John on the couch.

"Sarah. She was hitting on me. I don't like her, but she took any excuse she could find to rub up against me." John lied easily. There was a girl names Sarah, and she did like him, but he'd made the first move and they ended up snogging after their shifts at the soup kitchen.

"That's not true John," Sherlock said, "I reckon there was a girl named Sarah, but the lipstick smudged around you lips says she did a lot more than hit on you. In fact I'd venture to say you initiated the kissing."

"That's amazing." John admitted, he wanted to be mad at his friend. With his cheekbones, curly hair and arrogant attitude it was easy to see why people hated him, but John had never been able to hate him.

Sherlock smiled, "I know."

* * *

It was about a month later, right at the end of summer when Sherlock started acting strange. He started to become irritable, and started insulting people on a more regular basis.

Whenever John tried to talk to him about it though, Sherlock would deny everything and refuse to talk for an hour or so.

It was December by the time Sherlock finally lost control of his own emotions...

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**Right so I realize this is mean and that it is short but I wanted to get this to you as fast as possible so... If you did enjoy this please leave a review 3**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright so I've been really stressed lately so that's why I haven't been keeping up with this... Sorry but here is the new chapter so I hope you enjoy :D**

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It was a chilly day for England. Usually, it does nothing but rain even in the winter but now the snow fell making everything look peaceful and quiet. Sherlock had always hated Christmas time. It was nothing but a reason for his pathetic relatives to stare at him like he was a freak.

It was December the 10th and Sherlock was in his room with the door closed hunched over his desk as he re-read his neat handwriting.

Suddenly, John bust through into his room, startling Sherlock.

"What are you doing here, John?" Sherlock asked as he jotted down the last sentence of his lab report.

"I want to talk to you." He replied with a shrug before sitting down on the couch.

"Well, I'm very busy. So if you could please leave." Sherlock said, as he strode over to the file cabinet where he kept the written outcomes of his experiments and the biographies of the people he thought might come up in his life.

"S'alright. I'll just sit here and watch. I don't mind." John replied, stretching out across the couch in a very good impression of a cat.

"Alright. As long as you don't talk."

"I won't." John replied, only to have Sherlock shoot him a look that said 'you idiot'. John smiled weakly before he mimed zipping his lips shut, locking them and throwing away the key.

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, as he sat back down at his desk and opened his science text book. "Astronomy. Who needs it?" He muttered under his breathe.

Soon after Sherlock had opened his textbook, John had fallen asleep. Sherlock heard the soft grumbling coming from where John was sitting and turned to warn him that if he was going to continue making that sound, he'd have to leave. Sherlock found instead his best friend asleep on his couch, mouth open and snoring.

Sherlock stood, all thoughts of science forgotten, as he watched John. He was beautiful. His sandy brown hair and muscled build. He played Rugby so it wasn't surprising that he was athletic. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a red and black plaid shirt. Sherlock found himself staring at John but he couldn't help it. John had always fascinated him. He couldn't read things about that boy as easily. Sure, he could see the shirt that meant he'd probably come from a date with... Jennifer, but when John was awake Sherlock had a difficult time deducing what the sandy haired boy was thinking. It was only once he got closer that Sherlock could smell the perfume on him. It wasn't what Jennifer normally wore... He'd come from a date with some other girl. A twinge of jealously sparked in Sherlock's mind as he realized this.

Suddenly, he pulled John up from the couch with more strength than you'd think that the brunette possessed.

"What the hell Sherlock?" John exclaimed as he was jerked awake and pushed against the wall.

"Who is she?" Sherlock growled.

"Who's who?" John asked, confused and still not awake.

"Who is she?" Sherlock growled out again.

"Michelle. Her name is Michelle." John gasped out.

"Why her?" Sherlock asked. He knew who Michelle was. She was captain of the cheer team at their high school, and she was a slut.

"She asked me out. I didn't want to be mean, so I said yes to one date." John explained. He wasn't particularly comfortable with the situation he found himself in. Sherlock towered over him, looking oddly intimidating, and his back was pressed up against the wall.

Sherlock mumbled something under his breathe.

"What?"

"Why her? Why all the different girls? You come in here every day smelling of a different perfume and with a dumb smile plastered over your face. Why? What's the point in all this dating if it never goes anywhere other than in the file of ruined relationships?"

"Sherlock there is always the chance that they won't take a turn for the worse."

"Not with those girls." Sherlock replied, staring down his friend.

"With who then?" John asked confused.

Instead of answering, Sherlock leaned forward and caught John's kips with his own.

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**This is not the last chapter; there will be one or two more about their relationship afterwards... So if you did enjoy this please leave a comment... They are greatly appreciated :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**So... chapter 4... Well here goes nothing.**

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John squeaked, and tried to push Sherlock away, but the taller boy had his body pressed against him. Sherlock tried to coax a reaction out of John's lips but they remained stubbornly motionless. Finally, Sherlock pulled away, and took a step back.

"What the hell was that?" John demanded.

"A kiss. I'm sure you're familiar with them." Sherlock replied, slipping back into his usual prickly demeanor.

"Yes, but why?" John asked.

"An experiment." Sherlock lied easily.

"What's the experiment?" John asked, no longer angry, instead curious.

"I wouldn't bother to explain it. It's so tedious." Sherlock replied dramatically.

"Fine. Well, if you need any further help on this particular experiment, get someone else." John said threateningly before turning on his heel and walking out of Sherlock's bedroom.

_I am not gay. I am not gay._ John repeated the four word again and again in his head like a mantra. _I am not gay. I am not attracted to Sherlock. I didn't like that kiss. I don't want to kiss him again. I don't like men!_

But no matter how hard John tried, he just couldn't forget the feeling of Sherlock's lips on his own and couldn't help but crave that feeling again.

"Oh fuck it." John muttered before turning around and marching straight back up to Sherlock's room.

Sherlock was sprawled across the couch when his bedroom door burst open. He was vaguely surprised to see John standing at the threshold of his room.

"John. How pleasant of you to visit again, but please, I'm very busy." Sherlock said, standing so that he could move to his desk.

"Like hell you are." Was John's reply, and Sherlock suddenly found himself with John's arms wrapped around him.

"What are you doing, John?" Sherlock asked, keeping his voice even and his face in a mask of indifference.

"Experimenting." John said, before crashing his lips against those of the taller boy.

Sherlock responded enthusiastically, and he tried to savor that moment, but all to soon it was over.

"Yup." John said once he'd regained his breathe.

"What?" Sherlock asked, confusion written across his face.

"I'm definitely gay." John replied before pulling Sherlock down for another kiss.

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**So this is the end :D I hope you enjoyed this and if you did PLEASE leave a review 3 **


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